The fiction and fantasy of Chad Anctil

Archive for January, 2010

My name is Ronald Weasley, and while the major events of our fourth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry may be well known – especially those events associated with the tri-wizard tournament and the rise of the dark lord Voldemort – there were other events, witnessed only by a select few, which would prove far more dire. Had I myself not witnessed these events first hand, I would assume any who recalled them as I do to be mad – and in truth, even now I fear that I have gone mad in the recalling of all that has transpired. (more…)

Alex stood silent by the roadbed, Samantha beside him. There was a light rain coming down from the heavy, dark sky, the promise of more severe weather hanging on the breeze like a tattered flag on a rusted flagpole. There were other people here as well, of course, looking out at the road and the gathering of civil servants and road construction crew, glaring at the huge yellow machines sitting bloated and silent, just waiting for the order to start, waiting for the fire to be lit in their monstrous metal bellies so they could lurch forward on treads and wheels and rollers and devour and crush and create.

Nobody was smiling. Nobody was even looking at one another. Eyes panned across the scene like robotic security cameras, viewing the scene flatly but not actually seeing it. Not registering it. Alex could tell which of the others were there for the same reason he and Sam were there. It was the look in their eyes. That glassy, dead look. The look he now saw reflected in the mirror every morning, the look he saw in Samantha’s eyes in the all too brief moments when they actually met each other’s gaze now. (more…)

It was a cool day in that place between the hot season and the barren season, when the sky above Linae Ka was filled with bright white stars, shooting and sparking across the red and purple dusk and passing to they east, beyond the horizon into the places beyond. Na’tu was tending the central cooking fire, preparing Tikka leaves and a boar-like Toka freshly killed by the last hunting party when the other villagers began commenting, then crying out in fear and confusion. Never before had anyone in all the tribe’s memory seen such a display in the skies above Linae Ka, and most saw it as an ill omen. Of course, thought Na’tu, anything new or unusual was considered an ill omen by the tribe, though in her memory no calamity had ever befallen them. Their valley spirit, the gentle and generous Linae Ka, had always provided them with all they needed and had secluded and guarded them from the places beyond. For generations her tribe lived in peace and tranquility. Stars shooting across the sky and falling into the places beyond could not change that. Linae Ka would not let them. Fear was like the green vipers of the forest, though – always ready to strike at least provocation. (more…)